


i will breathe in, breathe out ('til you come in)

by lesbiancristina



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, dex has anxiety you can't change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiancristina/pseuds/lesbiancristina
Summary: Someone starts a fight with Nursey on the ice but Dex is the one to end it. He can't hear the ref's protests over the blood rushing in his ears, but he's distantly aware of his presence. He risks a final swing before he gets dragged away, the stinging in his knuckles and the vision of that fucker with his smarmy grin follow him all the way to the locker room.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter, whiskey/tango if u squint
Comments: 7
Kudos: 168





	i will breathe in, breathe out ('til you come in)

**Author's Note:**

> this was NOT written at 3am idek who I am anymore
> 
> my hell brain said what if Dex punched a guy for Nursey and also what if Dex has anxiety and now we're here

Someone starts a fight with Nursey on the ice but Dex is the one to end it. He can't hear the ref's protests over the blood rushing in his ears, but he's distantly aware of his presence. He risks a final swing before he gets dragged away, the stinging in his knuckles and the vision of that fucker with his smarmy grin follow him all the way to the locker room.

"You dumbass." Ransom says quietly, having been designated to deal with Dex's bullshit, as he often is. Dex thinks Holster doesn't know how to deal with him like this, and maybe that's uncharitable of him, but Ransom is rarely ever angry with him and that's what forces him to re-evaluate his own rage.

This time, though - "He swung for Nurse." He spits, flecks of blood dribbling onto his chin. He wipes it absently, knows he'll start to feel it soon. "It was foul - he was completely unprovoked!" Indignation sits righteously in his chest, tucked neatly beside the steady anxious buzz that resides there.

Ransom doesn't seem swayed by his argument but he stands watch as Dex's split knuckles are tended to, and the cut over his eyebrow is cleaned. "He'll be fine," Maria says, clucking at him exasperatedly. "That'll hurt for a few days, though."

Dex shrugs, and ignoring the eyes on him grabs his helmet.

"Not a chance, Dex." Ransom says, taking him by the shoulders and frog-marching him over to his cubby.

"But -"

"You're in no position to 'but' me right now." Dex's teeth clack together, the skin around his cut pulling tight when he frowns.

"Rans-"

"Get cleaned up and we'll see you back at the Haus." Ransom says, no nonsense. His eyes soften, warm and brown. "You've got to learn to reign it in."

Dex hates that he's right, hopes that Ransom can see that on his face. Ransom huffs a laugh, amused and bumps their shoulders together. "You gonna be alright?"

Dex nudges him back, and rolls his eyes for good measure. "Get back out there and give them hell, Rans." Ransom bares his teeth, a quick reassurance and then he's gone.

Dex watches him go and takes a minute to be grateful that Ransom's one half of a truly excellent captaincy and that Dex gets to play on this team. He doesn't regret tonight, but for a moment he worries that his actions let the team down.

He stands under the shower spray for entirely too long in an attempt to chase those thoughts away, grinding his teeth against the smarting of his cuts, and wishing he'd gotten to see Nursey before he was removed from the ice.

-

He debates braving the stands of Faber and ultimately decides to make the trek back to the Haus on his own, braving the brisk winter air and the poorly lit road back to frat row.

The Haus is quiet in a way that's disturbing simply because it's so unusual. He shucks his boots and his coat, leaning his kit bag against the wall by the front door and flicks on the lights as he moves through the Haus. He's restless, the need to do something itching under his skin. He reassures himself that it won't be long until the team descends, hectic and loud and overwhelming.

He putters around the kitchen, absently opening and closing cupboards, not really seeing what's behind the doors, and not sure what it is he's looking for. His hands shake and he shoves them against deep into his pockets, fists pressing into the meat of his thighs to hold them steady.

"Dex, Dex, Dex!" It's Tango, being trailed by a bemused looking Whiskey. "We won!! You totally should have been there, oh my god - and Whiskey!" Tango swings an arm around Whiskey, hauling him out from the doorway, radiating pride. "Whiskey scored the winning goal!"

"Tony -"

"You should have seen it," Tango cuts over what was sure to be a self depreciating protest. "Clean fucking skating and a beaut of a goal!"

Whiskey settles into Tango quietly, eyes steadfast on his friend, whose enthusiasm seems to wipe away the cobwebs of his embarrassment. "It was pretty sweet." He admits, trying and failing to hide his smile.

Dex holds his hands out for a fist-bump, his own anxiety receding in the face of their quiet joy. "Good job, guys." They return his bump, but Tango's eyes linger on Dex's hands.

"You got that guy good, huh?" He asks, letting Whiskey go with a good natured shove. "Holster was fuming."

"Nurse was pretty quiet," Whiskey adds, slouching into one of the chairs at the table, using one foot to push another out for Tango to take. “Seemed pretty out of it the rest of the game.” 

  
Dex leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he considers what that might mean. Most likely Nursey’s pissed at him for getting involved. “Fuck.” He mutters, fingers tapping against his arm, the movement and pressure enough to focus on for now. “On a scale of one to fucked how bad is it?”

  
Whiskey hums, contemplative, but Tango only looks confused, head tilted to the side. “I don’t think he seemed mad- he didn’t seem mad, right, Connor?” Blue eyes go wide and worried. “No, really, Dex, he was just quiet, and yeah that’s not really like Nursey, like, at all, but I don’t think it was about you, specifically. I don’t think he’s mad at you-”

  
Dex doesn’t hear the rest of Tango’s speech, a distant buzzing settling over his ears, leaving him disoriented and light-headed, hands clenching tight by his sides in an effort to centre himself; it doesn’t work, and he’s aware in a vague way that the others are piling in through the front door, making a racket that sets his teeth on edge automatically.

Someone is calling out to the others, and from further away someone is calling his name. “Dex.” It’s quiet and familiar. Ransom stands in front of him, blocking everyone else out, and Dex’s focus narrows to Ransom. “Dex we’re going to take you somewhere quieter, okay?” _We_? He thinks, something close to hysteria bubbling up in his lungs. A hand takes his, but it’s not Ransom, who has talked Dex through enough panic attacks by now that Dex can tell the difference. 

  
The stairs disappear behind him, as he takes one lethargic step after another, until he’s enclosed in the attic, the door shutting with a quiet _snick_. 

  
Dex’s legs finally give out, and he drops to the floor, physically pulling himself together. The person holding his hand goes down with him, holding Dex’s hands steady. “Dex?” _Nursey_. Dex inhales sharply and forgets to breathe out again. 

  
“Out, Dex.” Dex shudders out a breath, and his lungs burn, running on empty. “And in again.” Dex does as he’s told, trying to hold the air in, because there’s not enough air and if he lets it go there might not be enough left to fill his lungs again, and then he’ll suffocate. “It’s just you and me, so I need you to follow my breathing. Can you do that, Will?” 

  
Dex lifts his head, and Nursey is still there, holding Dex together with gentle hands and a steady gaze. Dex can already feel the shame building in the back of his skull at Nursey seeing him like this, but that’s better than the overwhelming panic, so he does his best to follow Nursey’s lead. 

  
Nursey smiles at him, “Just like that, c’mon Dex. In and out.” Nursey lifts their hands to press over Nursey’s chest, where his breathing is even and regular. “Copy me.” 

  
Dex closes his eyes and thinks about the gentle rise and fall of Nursey’s chest, and slowly the buzzing recedes, the tremble in his hands fades and the caught feeling in his lungs eases. They sit like that for days or for hours, just breathing together. 

  
Dex is wiped, by the game, by his brain chasing itself in circles. He opens his eyes. “Thanks.” He croaks, the words scratching at his throat. “Thanks, Nursey.” 

Nursey huffs, letting go of Dex’s hands. They’re cold now. “You fucking scared me, man.” 

  
“Oh, I scared you?” 

  
“Yeah, you did.” Nursey hunches his shoulders a little, turning his face away. “You looked - I thought- fuck. Fuck.”

  
“You helped.” Dex offers quiet reassurance. “I haven’t had a panic attack in months. You helped. So thank you. For staying with me.”

  
“Farrah has them, too.” Nursey admits, “Ma showed me how to help her through them a few years back. Never actually had to, though.”

  
“Oh, so that was your first time?” Dex chirps, laughter building behind his ribs. 

  
“Man, shut the fuck up!” Nursey says, shoving Dex so hard he falls back onto the floorboards.

  
“I was your first, dude, I’m honoured!” Dex adds, revelling in the furrow of Nursey’s brow and the press of his lips. 

  
“I can’t stand you.” Nursey declares, but he looks lighter as he says it, shoulders loosening and reaching out to pull Dex back into a sitting position. 

  
“Yeah, but now you don’t look like I killed your cat, so.” Dex shrugs, forgetting to give Nursey his hands back. “Seriously, though. Thank you for -” He waves their joined hands, “You know.” 

  
“Sure, it’s no problem, bro.” Nursey says, eyes stuck on where their hands are joined. “Is it rude to ask why it happened?” 

  
Dex itches to rub the back of his neck, put pressure there, but his desire to keep this closeness with Nursey wins out. “It’s - I should have seen it coming, really. I shouldn’t have been on my own after the game. Too many thoughts and nowhere to put them.” 

  
“What- because of the game?” 

  
“Yeah.” Dex says, “Because one of these days I’m going to get myself into something I can’t talk my way out of. Ransom - he’s too fucking lenient, really. Holster would have kicked my ass for that shit I pulled tonight.”

  
“What with that fucker from Yale?” Nursey asks, shifting so they’re face to face, knees knocking together. “Dude had it coming.”

  
“Yeah, well.” Dex mutters.

  
“Only got in one good hit,” Nursey says, fingers tightening around Dex’s. “You were on top of him before I even knew what hit me.” 

  
“He shouldn’t have fucking swung at you.” Dex says, bristling in defense, though Nursey doesn’t seem mad. 

  
“You, though,” Nursey continues, as though Dex hadn’t said anything at all. “You got him good. Should have seen his face when they took him off.” Nursey’s eyes rake over Dex’s face, lingering on the cut over his brow, and then lands on his split knuckles. It’s only that that allows Dex to realise that the cuts have begun to weep again. “Hold on a sec.” 

Before Dex can respond Nursey is gone, leaving Dex with his bleeding hands and his head spinning. He doesn’t get the chance to work himself into panic again, though his brain does a damn good job of trying. 

  
Nursey comes back, two bottles of water and a first aid kit balanced in one hand. He shuts the door to the attic behind him, and nudges Dex as he takes a seat beside him again. “Drink.” He orders, “Rans says you need water.”

  
He’ll have to thank Ransom, too. He’s a better friend than Dex deserves.

Dex takes a swig of water and it soothes his dry throat. “Thanks.” 

  
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Nursey returns, a small smile tugging at his lips. Nursey holds a hand out, “Gimmie.” Dex puts a hand in Nursey’s, heart thudding somewhere in his throat. 

  
“Gonna sting.” 

  
Dex, fully prepared, still hisses “Fuck,” between clenched teeth, the antiseptic wipe brushing over his knuckles on one hand, then the other. Nursey takes care not to apply too much pressure, winces in sympathy when Dex curses, but is methodical and gentle. His hands are warm against Dex’s, a soft bubble of calm falling around them; somewhere downstairs the team is celebrating, but it doesn’t reach them. Here it’s just him and Nursey.

  
Nursey wraps a plaster over the worst of the damage. He hesitates, just for a second, and then bends his head over their hands, a dry brush of lips over the back of Dex’s hand. “There,” He murmurs, “All better.” 

  
Nursey lifts his head slowly, “Okay?” He asks, his voice strained and unsure. 

  
“You missed one.” Dex points out, thinking that if Nursey can be brave, that he can, too. He manages a smile, and Nursey’s answering one fills Dex to the brim, sparks bursting where they touch, warmth blooming across his cheeks when Nursey crosses the distance between them and kisses his forehead. 

  
Nursey lingers there, his breath unsteady where it hits Dex’s temple. “Dex?” Dex hums, leans back a little so he can meet Nursey’s eyes. 

  
“Nursey.” He breathes, captured entirely by the soft crinkle around Nursey’s eyes, the scrunch of his nose as he smiles. Dex settles his hands over Nursey’s waist, steadying him in place, and Nursey’s hands smooth across Dex’s shoulders, the tips of his thumbs pressing into Dex’s collarbones. “Kiss me?” 

  
Nursey does, stealing the breath from Dex’s lungs, but this burn is pleasant, he feels it right down to his toes, revels in the warm press of Nursey’s mouth against his, again and again and again. Nursey’s hands push up into Dex’s hair as though he can hold him there, as if Dex would willingly go anywhere when he has Nursey in his arms like this. 

  
Breath ragged, Dex pulls away, turning his nose into Nursey’s cheek, feeling the tickle of Nursey’s eyelashes against his skin. Dex presses a kiss to wherever he can reach without moving at all. Nursey copies him, mouthing against the corner of Dex’s eye. 

  
“So.” Nursey says, hesitant. Dex runs his hands up Nursey’s sides soothingly. “That happened.” 

  
“God, you know how to ruin a mood.” Dex grumbles, tugging Nursey down and into his lap. Nursey elbows him on the way down, and Dex wrestles him into place, holding him close. “But yeah. It did.”

Nursey hums thoughtfully. “One time thing?” Dex’s arms tighten around Nursey, who laughs at him. “Or…” 

  
“Or?” Dex asks, hope bubbling in his esophagus. 

  
“Or you could take me out sometime.” 

  
“Why don’t you take _me_ out sometime?” Dex asks, almost offended, except the bubbling has spilled over, leaving a giddy sort of warmth in its wake. 

  
“Well if our first date goes well, maybe I will!” Nursey returns, and Dex sees that same warmth reflected in Nursey’s eyes. 

  
“Well, I guess I have to take you out, then.” Dex says, stealing a quick kiss. 

  
“It’s a date.” Nursey wiggles his eyebrows, because he lives to frustrate Dex. 

  
“I can’t believe I like you.” Dex huffs, the words captured by Nursey’s mouth, and he forgets to keep complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> anxiety is horrible and irrational, and dex's brain isn't nice to him. luckily his team loves him, and nursey does too. 
> 
> also the concept of nursey and dex arguing over who is going to take the other out on a date is hilarious to me, idk why. they argue over stupid shit while like, holding each other tenderly bc they're dumbasses. 
> 
> i'm still @deniceford on tumblr! pls come chat to me.


End file.
